


Re-Hatching

by SamanthaNovak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse of Angelic Grace, Angry Dean Winchester, Castiel Has Panic Attacks, Chuck is Kind of A Dick, Comforting Dean Winchester, Comforting Sam Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Sexual Bondage, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Dean, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam, Protective Sam Winchester, Protective Winchesters (Supernatural), Scared Castiel, attempted parental bonding, attempted rebirthing, he's just an idiot, hugs for Castiel, though he has good intentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 08:24:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14588961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamanthaNovak/pseuds/SamanthaNovak
Summary: For the following anon prompt on the LJ SPN kink community:Chuck's made a few attempts to smooth things over with Cas, or what, for him, passes for smoothing it over.Needless to say, Cas rebuffs him every time.Chuck isn't fully convinced that he himself is to blame for Cas's frosty attitude to him, and decides some of those human therapists had it right: Cas just needs to re-bond with him, and the best way to do that is to kind of start over.Fledglings in heaven are hatched, not born. Cas fights, but Chuck wraps him up in something: up to you if it's a shell of Grace, or some physical material, maybe even Chuck creates an actual egg, but whatever it is Cas panics. He's been restrained so many times, including being trapped within Lucifer's more powerful grace, and now his own father is doing it to him.Chuck doesn't recognise Cas's true fear and panic, but when Dean and Sam come in (this all happens in the bunker when they're out getting food and Cas is there by himself when Chuck shows up) they know and freak out, getting Cas free and comforting him while Dean reads Chuck the riot act.Please lots of TLC for the poor angel.





	Re-Hatching

**Author's Note:**

> I hope the OP likes how I filled the prompt. I don't know if I put in _enough_ TLC for Cas or if I spent too much time on the actual confinement or not enough or...
> 
> Technically, this is my second prompt fill - the first is still a WIP I haven't posted yet. I found this one and wrote it in a couple of hours.

* * *

“I said _no_ ,” Castiel snarled, arms crossed and blue eyes glaring daggers at his father from where he sat at the map table in the bunker.

“C’mon, Cas,” Chuck soothed from his seat across from Castiel,his tone as gentle as he could manage. Though this argument had been going on for almost an hour and even God has limited patience. “I’ve read all kinds of human psychology websites and journals and almost all of those therapists say we should bond again. I know I wasn’t around when you or any of your brothers and sisters hatched so we never got the proper bonding a parent should have with their child but I’m here now and I want to give this an honest to Me try.”

Castiel only tightened his arms across his chest and averted his glare to the tabletop in front of him, somewhere around Texas, snorting derisively at the contortion of a human phrase. It only made his father sound self-centered which wasn’t helping Castiel’s opinion of him.

The Winchesters had gone out for their weekly grocery run, an errand that, when shopping to feed two grown men and _God_ – who seemed to eat anything and everything – would take at least a couple of hours, leaving Castiel alone with his father. A father who felt he wasn’t to blame for their rocky relationship and Castiel’s less-than-warm attitude toward him. (“I rebuilt you!” he’d said. “Several times! If that doesn’t show you how much I care about _you_ over pretty much _all_ of your brothers and sisters, that’s your problem. Not mine.”) Needless to say, Castiel didn’t accept that apology.

Chuck had continued to soften Castiel toward him but the Seraph wasn’t having any of it. If _God_ wanted to apologize and truly start over, a half-assed apology was _not_ going to be enough. And his suggestion to start over as if nothing had happened between them didn’t sound like it would work. At all. Castiel couldn’t just _forget_ everything his father had done – things he hadn’t realized were wrong from a parent to a child until he’d met the Winchesters and they’d showed him free will and he’d learned that God had practically abandoned all his children – angel or human.

“Cas-”

“Stop calling me that,” Castiel growled. “From what I understand, shortened versions of names are meant to be affectionate and familiar. You have not been around long enough to earn that right.”

“Castiel,” Chuck sighed. “Please, at least try? Even _Lucifer_ agreed to sit down with me and talk things out. And we’re okay again. Can’t you just try this?”

“How do you expect me to just _forget_ everything you did?” Castiel asked quietly, unable to muster the anger to growl or snarl anymore. “I’ve heard your side of everything and, clearly, you don’t find fault in any of your actions and that’s not good enough for me. Just _pretending_ I’m meeting my father for the first time isn’t enough.”

Chuck remained silent for several long minutes, clearly thinking about the best way to go about this. Finally, his eyes light up and he sat straight up in his seat, clearly proud of whatever idea he’d just come up with.

“Come with me,” he commanded in an excited tone as he hurried from the room.

For half a second, Castiel thought about just staying where he was and ignoring whatever his father was doing altogether. Unfortunately, after realizing Castiel wasn’t following, Chuck poked his head back into the room and urged him to “ _come on!_ ”

With a weary sigh, Castiel stood and followed Chuck down the dormitory wing. His curiosity mildly piqued when Chuck led them to the room the brothers had given Castiel. When he pushed the door open and stepped off to the side, Castiel narrowed his eyes and tilted his head in confusion.

“Go sit in the middle of the bed,” Chuck ordered.

“Why?” Castiel asked warily.

“Just… trust me?” Chuck said uncertainly. “I know you don’t but I swear, this is a good thing – for both of us.”

Castiel eyed him warily for a moment before he finally decided to just try whatever this was. If he didn’t like it, he could walk away. So he crossed to the bed and wiggled himself into the center, pulling his legs to his chest.

“Now what?” he asked.

Instead of answering, Chuck began moving his hands around each other, the blue light of grace creating a sphere between them. As he worked his hands in a rhythmic motion around each other, he slowly pulled them away from each other, the sphere between them growing in the space created. As it grew bigger than Chuck could contain, he made a pushing motion and it gravitated toward Castiel, still growing until it was larger than his vessel’s body.

“What-?” he asked, leaning away warily as the grace came toward him. He had a sinking feeling he knew what that giant ball was meant to do and panic washed over him. “No! Don’t! I don’t want to do this!”

“It’ll be good for us, Castiel,” Chuck assured him. “We’ll act like you’ve just hatched and everything will be okay again.”

“No!” Castiel cried out again as the warm feeling of grace washed over him as the ball passed through him then remained still around him as Chuck lowered his hands. Frantically pushing at the walls around him, Castiel realized that whatever Chuck had done to get it _around_ him no longer applied – instead of passing through the grace as he had when it was settling into place, Castiel’s hands only pushed against it, like a solid wall of warm stone. Completely unyielding to his touch. “Let me go! I don’t want this!”

“This will be a good thing,” Chuck repeated. “I’ll come back for you in an hour or so and break you out. It’ll be like the first time you hatched as a fledgling.”

“No!” Castiel cried as Chuck left the room. “Please, let me out!”

With the bedroom door closed and Chuck not returning, no matter how frantic Castiel’s voice became, the Seraph felt panic truly settle in. He couldn’t break the “egg” of grace his father had set him in – _God_ had created it, after all! There was no getting out until Chuck let him out.

Hugging his knees tighter, Castiel squeezed his eyes shut and tried to imagine he was somewhere else instead of stuck inside his father’s grace. Anywhere else. He could feel the bed underneath him still so he focused on that and imagined he was still in his room on his bed but instead of waiting for Chuck to let him out, he was just waiting for the Winchesters to return.

Except that felt too close to reality and the fact that he was still stuck inside an egg of grace came crashing over him again. He began humming, a prolonged, flat note, barely resisting the urge to rock in place as he desperately tried to put himself somewhere else in his mind.

Being trapped inside someone else’s grace was starting to remind him of the time he’d let Lucifer into his vessel to stop the Darkness. His own grace had been pushed down underneath the ice of his older brother’s grace while Lucifer had been in control of Castiel’s vessel. And while he’d willingly agreed to it and had hidden himself away in his mind while Lucifer had the reigns, Castiel remembered being in control long enough to see Sam’s frightened eyes and flinch when he’d thought Castiel was his brother. Or the brief flash of Dean trying to get Castiel to get Lucifer out. He’d barely been in control and that was not a feeling he wanted to repeat.

Being trapped inside this grace was making him remember being trapped in his own vessel, knowing Lucifer could take control any second.

Castiel frantically shook his head back and forth then slid his hands up into his hair and tugging hard, trying to ground himself.

“Please,” he whispered, no longer able to force his voice any higher around the panic and sheer terror in his chest. “I don’t want this… I don’t want this… I can’t…”

Sure, he had a bit of room in the egg and still had control o his body but there had been too many times that he _didn’t_ have full control, not just Lucifer riding shotgun in his vessel.

Like the time Rowena had put that attack dog spell on him. He’d fought it as hard as he could but then it had become too much. He’d followed that poor woman to an abandoned warehouse and had no control over his body as his hands clamped down on her throat. He’d been relieved when Dean had showed up and had managed to talk him into letting her go. But then Castiel had watched, trapped in his own mind behind the effects of the spell, as his body beat Dean, no matter how hard he’d tried to stop himself. He’d been lucky, again, when Rowena and Sam appeared and the witch removed the spell.

“It’s not the same,” Castiel whispered. “It’s not the same. You’re in complete control. You’re just… bound a little bit. You have full control of your body.”

Except that didn’t work either. Because there had been plenty of times he’d been in full control of his body but had been bound, helpless to stop someone else from harming him.

Like the time he’d lost his grace and April had bound him to a chair, tortured him with his own angel blade for information. Even though Castiel had _given_ her the information she wanted, she wouldn’t believe him and had continued to slice into his flesh and had even _killed_ him!

And then there was the time shortly after that, when Malachi had chained him up and made Theo torture him for the same kind of information about Metatron! The burning of the blade through his chest and abdomen, the feeling of his own blood trickling down his skin.

Or the time Jonah and Ephraim had tricked him into a warehouse under the guise of taking him to Heaven’s door in the playground, only to chain him up and torture him with an angel blade! He wrapped his arms around his middle, still able to feel the sharp pain of the angel blade shoving through his vessel’s body and his own grace then slowly being bulled back out, only to be repeated when they didn’t get their answers.

And then they’d tried hacking his brain with that awful contraption, forcing him to give up control of his body again as they dug around in his angel wiring. The memory of that dreadful contraption reminded him of the time he, Sam, and Dean had saved Samandriel from Crowley. The King of Hell had put the same kind of device on his little brother’s head and had been successful in getting access to things Crowley definitely should not have known.

Which led to thoughts about Naomi because, after they’d rescued Samandriel, she’d ordered Castiel to kill him! And that reminded him how many of his actions around that time had been at her command. He’d only had a false sense of control then. Naomi could tell him to do whatever and to whomever whenever she liked whether Castiel wanted to or not.

“It’s not the same, it’s not the same, it’s not the same,” Castiel repeated to himself, eyes squeezed tightly shut and buried int his knees, hands still tugging hard at his hair while he rocked. The panic and fear had created a nervous energy he couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard he tried to use logic to calm himself and any kind of movement lessened the anxious buzzing he felt under his skin.

~oOoOo~

“Seriously, Dean?” Sam sighed as he hefted a handful of plastic shopping bags in one hand, all their handles gripped tightly in one fist. “You didn’t need _four_ gallons if ice cream. It’s going to get freezer burned before we can finish it!”

“Have you _seen_ the way Chuck eats?” Dean countered, hefting his own bags in both hands and waiting for Sam to open the bunker door. “Dude can put away an entire thing himself.”

“I doubt even _God_ can put away an entire _gallon_ of Rocky Road,” Sam sighed as he shouldered open the door. “Chuck! Cas! We’re back!” he called as the two made their way down the bunker steps.

“In here!” Chuck called from the library.

As the two passed by, they noticed _only_ Chuck sitting in the library, feet propped up on the table and a plate in his hands, fork already halfway to his mouth.

“Is that the last piece of my _pie_ ,” Dean growled.

Chuck shrugged. “Maybe. It was the only piece in there.”

“So, yes,” Dean sighed. “Dude, _come on!”_

“Chuck,” Sam said as he looked around the room, interrupting what he knew would be an argument. “Where’s Cas?”

“In his room. Actually,” Chuck groaned as he stood and stretched. “I should probably go get him. We’re trying some rebonding thing and I told him I’d come get him in an hour… well, an hour ago.”

The Winchesters shared a confused glance before following Chuck down the hall to Castiel’s room. When Chuck pushed open the door, both brothers’ eyes widened at the sight that met them though Chuck seemed disconcertingly unfazed.

“Chuck! What the hell,” Dean growled.

Castiel sat in the center of the bed, encased in some kind of… grace _egg._ His eyes were wide and unseeing as he stared forward and he rocked slightly while humming, long and low.

“It’s a rebirth thing,” Chuck explained. “It’ll be good for us to bond. Once he’s hatched.”

“And how’s he supposed to do that?” Dean asked in a deceptively calm voice.

“I’ll break the egg,” Chuck said as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

“So break it!” Sam cried. “He’s _panicking_ in there!”

“I got this,” Dean said, crossing to Castiel’s dresser. He pulled open the top drawer where the angel had stored an angel blade they’d taken from one of the many dead angels they’d encountered over the years.

Blade in hand, he walked up to the egg and with a growl, shoved it through, parallel to Castiel so he wouldn’t accidentally stab his friend.

The egg shattered and fell away and Dean stepped back, aiming the angel blade threateningly at Chuck. “You. Library. Now.”

“Come on, Dean, that thing won’t kill me,” Chuck countered though he did take an involuntary step back in response to the anger that was practically wafting off of Dean.

“I’m not trying to kill you. But this’ll hurt like a son of a bitch if I _stab_ you with it. Go,” he snarled.

Chuck swallowed visibly then scurried from the room.

Dean snorted. “Still a coward.”

“Cas?” Sam called, sitting beside their friend who still hadn’t moved or quieted his humming. “Cas? It’s Sam. You’re okay.”

Castiel blinked once and his humming faltered as he swallowed. His eyes flicked to Sam then back forward.His humming continued and he tugged at his hair again.

“Hey, no, don’t do that,” Sam said, gently grasping at Castiel’s wrists and pulling his hands from his hair.

Castiel whined and his eyes flicked back to Sam. This time, recognition flickered in the blue depths and he locked his eyes on Sam.

“Sam?” he croaked.

“I’m here,” Sam said, squeezing the angel’s wrists. “Dean, too.”

“Dean?” Castiel called, eyes flicking around the room until they landed on Dean. “I’m… I’m out?”

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean said, carefully approaching the bed and sitting on the angel’s other side. “We got you out.”

“Thank you,” Castiel sighed, slumping into Sam’s chest as tears filled of relief filled his eyes. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t break it… I’m not… My grace isn’t strong enough. I couldn’t stop the fear, I- I-” He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face into Sam’s shoulder, snaking his arms around the taller man’s waist and clinging desperately. “Please, don’t let him put me back in there! I can’t-”

“Hey, easy, Cas,” Dean soothed, reaching forward to rub circles between Castiel’s shoulders. “No way in hell are we letting Chuck anywhere near you for a long-ass time.”

“Cas?” Sam asked, ducking his head to try to get the angel to look at him. “Did you tell Chuck that you didn’t want to participate in this ‘rebirthing’ thing?”

Castiel nodded frantically against Sam’s shoulder. “Yes! I told him repeatedly to stop and to let me go! He said it would be ‘good for us’ and once I was in and he left me, I kept imagining the other times I’d been bound and helpless and I… I…”

“It’s okay,” Sam soothed, holding the smaller man tighter. “You’re okay now.”

They stayed like that for several minutes before Castiel calmed enough to pull away from Sam, only to be enveloped in a tight hug from Dean. Though brief, the hug was no less warm and comforting than Sam’s had been. When they broke apart, Dean stood, jaw set.

“Stay with Sam,” he said. “I’m going to go deal with Chuck.”

“Dean,” Castiel pleaded. “Don’t hurt him? I know what he did was unforgivable but he’s still my father.”

“I’ll try,” Dean said before stalking down the hall to the library.

Chuck was pacing near a table when Dean entered. The smaller man opened his mouth to say something but Dean cut him off.

“Sit,” he snarled, pointing to a chair. He was only mildly aware that he was ordering _God_ around and even more so when the man actually dropped into a nearby chair.

“Dean, I-”

“You don’t get to talk,” Dean growled. “You’re going to listen. For… I don’t know… _centuries?…_ you’ve been an absent father. So you don’t know the shit that happens to your kids. And what you did in there to Cas? That was a pretty shitty thing to do. It was pretty damn close to any of our _enemies_ tying him up, taking away his control. It’s not something his _father_ should have done. I don’t care what you were trying to do – you _hurt_ Cas and that is _not_ okay. _Ever_.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Chuck pleaded.

“I don’t care!” Dean yelled. “I don’t care what you _meant_ by it! The fact is, you didn’t see the terror in your own kid’s eyes back there! Cas said he _begged_ you to stop and yet we found him like that because you _ignored_ him and left him!”

“Dean-”  
“Get out.”

Chuck just blinked at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish trying to breath on land.

“I said,” Dean hissed. “Get the fuck out of here. I can’t trust you around Cas right now. So until you can apologize and we decide we can trust you again, I want you gone.”

Chuck’s shoulders slumped and he dropped his gaze to the floor. “I really am sorry, Dean,” he whispered before brushing past the Winchester and climbing the stairs.

Not until he heard the squeak and clang of the heavy door shutting did Dean dare to move again. He returned to Castiel’s room where he found the angel and his brother just as he’d left them: Sam’s arm around Castiel’s shoulders while the angel stared at his hands, clearly still disturbed by what happened.

“What’d you do?” Sam asked. “We heard you yell then we heard the door.”

“I kicked God out,” Dean said, smirking slightly. “Told him until we decide we can trust him around Cas again – and if Cas ever wants to see him again – he’s not welcome here.” He settled on the bed on Castiel’s other side, wrapping his arm around his back under Sam’s. “You’re family, Cas, and I know he’s your dad, but you’ve been here longer and he’s kind of a dick, so…”

“I understand, Dean,” Castiel said in a voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you. I… don’t want to see him anyway. I can’t. He… He wouldn’t listen and I couldn’t break the egg.”

“Shhh,” Sam soothed. “It’s over, Cas. You’re out now.”

“You know, we bought tons of ice cream, figuring Chuck would be around for a while to eat it all,” Dean said thoughtfully. “But… seeing as Cas has been through something traumatic, I say he gets the ice cream.”

“Dean, I don’t think Cas can eat four gallons of ice cream,” Sam sighed.

“No, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy what we can. I say we skip dinner and make floats or sundaes or something,” Dean said with a grin.

Castiel glanced up at Sam then to Dean, smiling slightly at the infectious smile on the elder Winchester’s face. “If I suppress my grace enough, it won’t taste like molecules,” he agreed.

“Good!” Dean chirped. “C’mon, Sammy, can’t you _not_ be Mr. Heath for one night? For Cas?”

“Please, Sam?” Castiel asked, turning wide eyes on the younger Winchester. “I would like to try a float.”

“Whoa, Cas, I didn’t realize you had puppy eyes to match Sammy’s,” Dean chuckled.

Sam sighed but couldn’t help the smile that tugged the corners of his mouth up. “Alright, alright,” he relented. “Just for tonight!”

“Awesome! C’mon, Cas!” Dean called as he strode from the room.

Castiel grinned as he stood, making it halfway across the room before turning to Sam. “Thank you, Sam.”

“Anytime, Cas,” Sam said, knowing the angel didn’t mean just the permission to have ice cream for dinner.


End file.
